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Archive for October, 2016

Going Home

My heart hangs heaviest during the autumn of each year, when I know far away the leaves are turning a riot of colors, smoke smell lingers in the heavy cool air, apples fall ready from the trees, and sweaters become the costume of choice. 

 

The north road calls,
the pure voice of fall
fills my ears with joy,
far away, here alone–

The pure voice of fall,
the promise of crisp apples, while
far away, here alone,
I watch the summer moon fade.

The promise of crisp apples, while
distant, I still can savor memory–
I watch the summer moon fade,
the trees don’t change color here;

distant, I still can savor memory,
the purest hues of New England autumn.
The trees don’t change color here-
I will not stay here forever.

The purest hues of New England Autumn
fill my eyes with joy–
I will not stay here forever, not
while the north road calls.

@2016
MaryMargaret

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